The Burning of Arc
by Miromi
Summary: Jaune's concerns over the approaching Vytal tournament lead him to seek additional aid through Yang. Will he be able to survive training with the playful blond and how will it affect teams JNPR and RWBY? What secrets will the blonds discover about each other and will their relationship blossom or wither?
1. Chapter 1

Life at Beacon Academy had been rough for one Jaune Arc, it seemed more as though he had been cast the court jester than the aspirant hero he thought of himself as. He had hoped for some recognition as his skills increased, and while he was no longer tripping over himself in combat, the gap between his peers remained the chasm it had started out as. While on most days Jaune's bruised ego would be soothed by the patient reassurances doled out by a diligent Pyrrha; there had been rumours abound, those of a tournament or festival on the horizon and the standard fare besmirching both his and Pyrrha's names.

It was too much. He couldn't sit idly by with his meagre skillset; he would prove himself capable by winning any tournament afoot. While admirable a goal, he still had no idea how to give himself the edge he needed to really compete let alone win. It had been a scant second before his mind worked its way to Pyrrha but he had relied on her far too much already, and as much as the rumours of whatever was between them might embolden his fantasies he wouldn't drag her to his level.

No, what he needed was something unique to him. Though he had a clue as to where to start, namely his aura, he still lacked a mentor figure to guide him upon his path. With Pyrrha out of the equation, and by proxy the rest of his team, it was a difficult task to find someone that would aid him. The obvious answer to his prayers lay just across the hall from him, Jaune kept finding himself drawn back to team RWBY's display against the Nevermore. They had seemed monstrous in their strength, it was that very strength that he wanted, that he needed; but perhaps it wasn't so obvious when one put thought to it. Despite being on friendly terms with them team RWBY he was intimidated by their strength and eccentric personalities, it left one to wonder what he might have to endure under their tutelage.

Never let it be said that Jaune Arc was a coward—while he did know the value of a tactical retreat—he would have to face this challenge if he wanted to get any respect during his stay in Beacon.

It had been a short deliberation on which member of RWBY he would ask, the result being the bold, brazen and beautiful Yang Xiao Long. He had yet to gauge Blake beyond her cold demeanour and he would never convince Weiss to give him the time of day, unfortunately that also excluded Ruby from his options since the two were inseparable as of late; of course it had nothing to do with his already wounded pride.

With his path divined and his future certain all that remained was to find a suitable time to ask Yang well away from any prying eyes or ears, he'd not have Yang's name sullied with his. It was first light peeking through the curtain that designated the sleeping area of 'the boys' that roused him from his thoughts, while he had gotten some sleep the night before he realised that a healthy helping of caffeine would be needed to get through the day.

His quest for recognition shelved and initiating his quest for coffee, something he wasn't very fond of, he found himself fantasis— contemplating what he would learn under Yang. Passing through the common area and over to the kitchenette he saw her.

Stood there in her glorious, dishevelled state was Yang Xiao Long, his chosen mentor—poison—and one of the monsters he had come to admire. She hadn't noticed him yet, her eyes seemingly glassy and unseeing. The sight of her was surreal to Jaune; the very same person that had jumped into the beak of a Nevermore and fired shots into its belly was standing dazed over the kettle waiting for it to boil.

Stunned as he was by the sight before him, he lost all form of initiative when Yang stirred and turned to face him; time continued to tick by but Jaune remained oblivious to it, gawking at Yang.

"If you're interested in what you see you might want to say something." The lilted tone came, rousing Jaune from his daze and forcing him to flush crimson.

"Yes. No, I mean-" a giggle cut him off as he made a fool of himself, feeling his entire body turn red he made to leave if only to escape the embarrassment of the moment.

Cutting through his embarrassment and urge to leave came an apology; "I'm sorry Jaune, what did you want?" throwing the poor boy a line after watching him squirm.

Having stopped and turning around to face her again, Jaune found himself hesitating. A soft silence descended on the area as Yang patiently waited for him to work up whatever nerve he had to start what would, no doubt, be another in a very long line of confessions. It was a long minute until Jaune spoke again; she had taken the time to ready herself to break whatever remained of the boy's faux confidence.

"Will you-" Yang steeled herself as he started. "Train me?"

The steel that coursed through Yang bent as those two words sent signals it couldn't understand, it was another long minute before she managed to say something; Jaune growing more and more nervous under her gaze.

"This isn't a confession?" A sense of wonder pervaded the words, as if the idea of Jaune not confessing to her—as he had to both Weiss and Pyrrha—was alien to her.

Jaune spluttered in response, any semblance of control he had in the conversation disappeared with the white of his cheeks; his blush returning in full force.

It was in the midst of his attempts to formulate a coherent response the kettle boiled, signalling the end of Yang's time idling by the kitchenette. It was only on her way past him with her coffee in tow that she finally answered his question.

"I'll do it, see you after class." Her form slinking back the way he had come from, it was only once she was out of his sight that her answer had sunk in. His quest for caffeine forgotten he Idled his way back to his room, wondering if his health would last in an extended session with the fiend that was Yang.

* * *

It had been a trying day for Jaune, he had made sure to keep an eye on Yang at all times, if only to satisfy his paranoia on the matter. Not one suspicious move was made throughout the day and while his attention to Yang may have drawn the ire of Pyrrha, no doubt due to his lack of attention to class, it was well worth the peace of mind it gave him. The peace was shattered on the advent of his final class, opening his workbook to find a message from Yang scrawled on the page detailing the location for their after school rendezvous. He had to give her credit for sneaking the message in there though; he hadn't left his bag unattended for more than a few minutes today.

A nervous hour later Jaune made his way down to one of the enclosed training areas on campus, truth be told he had no clue how Yang had managed to get access to one, they only ever seemed to be used during classes. Regardless of his wondering the time of reckoning was now, pushing his way through the doors he spied Yang stood in the centre of the arena eyes fixed on him. If there was ever a time to turn and run it had long since passed, a predatory gaze stalked him as he made his way into the arena.

"How did you manage this?" His curiosity rearing its head with a focus in front of it, the question hung in the air for moments too long. Yang stood silent, eyes still fixed on him. He was afraid, he had never realised Yang could be so intense before, it was as if she were cataloguing ever step he made and every breath he took. He wanted to move forward, to take those last few steps to reach the kind of space you hold a casual conversation in. No matter how much he wanted to though he couldn't move, he could feel his death lurking a step away. His veins iced, a chill creeping its way into his heart. Any moment now, he could feel it.

An explosion; his heart starts again almost too vigorously as her laughter fills the hall.

"You should have seen the look on your face Jauney boy." The smirk on her face could seem almost cruel and even knowing her playful nature he shifts uncomfortably under it. "First things first then Jaune, fists up." She brandished her wrists, making a show of Ember Celica's absence. He idly wondered why they'd fight bare handed; he didn't intend to take even a single beowolf on without a weapon.

Nonetheless he obliged his new teacher; it wouldn't do to disappoint her so soon. Having put Crocea Mors down he raised his fists, attempting to imitate her stance, no sooner than he had she charged. Closing the distance in short order, she struck out into his guard, hitting nothing but air as Jaune stumbled over his own feet. With a sigh Yang extended her arm to help him up.

"This is going to take a while, huh?"

It was an hour later with Jaune sprawled out exhausted that Yang called an end to their session. It'd been a slaughter. Jaune's stance, reactions and movement were all subpar; truthfully she had no clue what she could do with him, but she'd been expecting something like this. It'd be a long while of just drills but at least he'd gain from it and she wasn't adverse to spending time helping him out. There was perhaps one vector she could work off of though.

"Jaune, do you know what your semblance is?" She didn't have much hope for it but perhaps it would help, if he even knew it. A sheepish hand scratched the back of his head; it told her all she needed to know. Another sigh escaped her lips, it seemed as though it was becoming a theme in her interactions with Jaune.

"Its fine, I didn't think you would." There was something in her voice as she said it, something Jaune couldn't put his finger on. Almost wistful in delivery, it didn't feel as though she'd insulted him so he did his best to let the comment go.

"We'll meet here every Friday after classes for an hour, or more depending on how long you last Jauney boy." Crimson flushed across his face and with a wink Yang was gone, leaving him to stew in his thoughts. Dragging his mind—kicking and screaming no doubt—away from the thoughts of Yang's body he settled on his performance. He'd been pathetic and the self-loathing was coming on, it'd be hard to face Pyrrha without worrying her that night. Gathering up Crocea Mors he made his way back towards his dorm.

* * *

Comfortable in his office, curtains drawn against the world, Ozpin sat having observed the training session between Yang and Jaune; he hadn't expected this development. Hopefully Miss Xiao Long would be good for the boy; perhaps it'd be best to bury his transcripts though. It wouldn't do for an overly curious student to get their hands on them after all and Miss Xiao Long did have some rather— knowledgeable acquaintances. He had no doubts it wouldn't come out eventually but he'd buy whatever time he could for the boy to mature into his potential.


	2. Chapter 2

People had started to notice him disappearing every Friday and the occasional Saturday or Sunday. Yang hadn't been overly concerned when he broached the subject but Jaune had sworn her to secrecy regardless, he'd not have her name dragged through the mud.

Some might argue they were already part of the same group and were often associated with each other, to the casual observer that might seem the case but Jaune was far from the most attention grabbing member of the group. Five amazingly attractive girls, one cute girl that was just a bit too psychotic for most tastes and an honest to god pretty boy; people noticed Jaune for the contrast he brought to the group, the pity friend.

At the very least people had stopped giving condolences to Pyrrha for being partnered to him when he'd managed to win a match in one of the class demonstrations, sure it'd been a bit of a fluke but a wins a win— right? It'd driven Pyrrha insane listening to people insult him like that but she'd been too polite to really respond, Yang on the other hand wouldn't have such reservations; she'd blow up and get stuck with all same crap he'd had to deal with for defending him.

"What are you thinking so deeply about Lover boy?" Not quite broken from his reverie his response drifted out, a dream like quality to his voice.

"You," His response stalled her for a moment, not quite comprehending what he uttered. He realises his mistake in that moment "Not like that." He manages to deliver the line with only a tinge of red painting his cheeks, a testament to the adaptability of man; it doesn't matter, she has him in her jaws.

"So, have you been thinking of me 'like that', eh Lover boy?" Stalking around him as she delivered the line, only to draw out his new name with a teasing hiss; any control he had over his blood departed to other regions.

Withdrawing herself and cutting through his stammering: "Anyway, I'm really sorry Jaune but something's come up. I've got some business in the city; I'll make it up to you next week."

It amazed him sometimes how she could just flip between teasing and not, playful and serious but he couldn't bring himself to ever get mad at her for it. So it was with a rueful sigh he offered to accompany her on her errand.

"Um, sorry Jaune it's a bit of a personal thing, it could take a while too." She twiddled her hair around a finger, it seemed almost nervous to Jaune but Yang wouldn't, couldn't be nervous.

"Oh." He wanted to ask, he wanted to be a part of it but he knew better. "Ok then."

"Thanks, I knew you'd understand." A knock to his arm, a bit too forceful leaves him rubbing it as she dashed off.

* * *

He'd never enjoyed walking through campus alone. It always felt as though everyone was judging him, asking themselves: 'Have they finally gotten rid of him?' Often he'd keep his head held high as though none of it mattered to him but today he was preoccupied with thoughts of Yang's mystery errand, as such it came as no surprise that he bumped into someone.

Flat on his ass Jaune rubbed his nose, at least he hadn't walked into someone's breasts again. It'd been a tough case to plead to the woman that had been screaming obscenities at him and he'd rather never have to deal with that again. Still though, as he stared into the eyes of Cardin Winchester he thought perhaps it would've been less trouble if he had.

Back on his feet Cardin towered over Jaune, "Look Cardin I can explain—" a hand in his face cut the ramble short. He was scarcely able to believe it; Cardin was offering to help him up. It seemed as though he'd stared at the offending limb for a moment too long as it left his proximity with a terse huff.

"Save it Arc, I've been looking for you." An ominous statement, it took everything Jaune had not to bolt. He'd stood up to Cardin before, saved his life even, he was owed that; he wouldn't be extorted again. "Stop looking like you're going to crap yourself, I'm not going to touch you."

His expression cracked, a nervous grin found its way onto his face and a sheepish hand to the back of his head. "Oh, err, what did you need then?"

"Listen well because I'm only telling you this once. I heard from someone I know that Blondie has been asking some pretty troubling questions about you, even to some less respected sources." A part of Cardin delighted in being a part of the makings of a conspiracy, if only it hadn't been centred on Arc.

"You mean like Wikipedia?" It took all of his willpower to not turn and leave, Jaune's stupidity never ceased to amaze him.

"No you idiot, I mean like criminals." Any patience he'd come into the conversation with had long evaporated, leaving him just about ready to start hitting someone; the obvious target on hand. "Look, my warning's delivered so I'm out. This makes us even though Arc, you got it?" He didn't wait for a reply.

The day seemed to be raining blows on Jaune and his mind was scrambled. Yang had seemed off at times and he'd noticed on occasion that something she would say seemed just that little bit off, as if she'd been seeing something just that bit larger than him. Questions flooded his mind, the most prevalent 'Can I trust Cardin?' Sure he'd seemed sincere enough—he spoke through grit teeth after all—but his track record for screwing with Jaune spoke for itself.

As he thought more and more on the subject unease washed over him, there was simply no way to determine Cardin's intentions. Every time he tried to brush it from his mind it would niggle, a small worm cresting the surface of his brain at every juncture; what if she finds out? He could trust Yang, he thought, but this was his life; his dreams.

It'd been perhaps five minutes of dalliance later, too troubled with his thoughts to keep pace, that he noticed them; charging their way against his direction. Red, white and yellow—no black?—spotted him not a moment later. They didn't slow down regardless, obviously in a rush –to where? Ruby yelled some apology or greeting or both to him as they approached only to receive a scolding of some sorts from Weiss. It was all static. His eyes roved for hers, attempted to convey some measure of the questions that dominated his mind.

Contact.

Lilac enveloped his being and he lost himself, surely he'd manage to convey something in that one meaningful moment. She turned her head, not even a nod, wink or bat of an eyelash. He lost himself again, a war raging in his mind.

The click of a door shutting centred him once more; a beacon of red dashed his vision.

"Hello Jaune, where've you been? Ren said you'd left early." Centred though he may have been the tumultuous nature of his thoughts left him bereft of a response, stammering wouldn't cut it.

"Oh, I've, um, been around." At least he'd managed something; perhaps his training with Yang had borne fruit.

"Around?" Perhaps he'd been too hasty in thinking he'd managed anything; her incredulous brow seemed to agree. His hand glued itself to the back of his head and a nervous chuckle departed his lips. "You can talk to me about it." Pyrrha really did know him too well.

"If someone were theoretically going around and asking questions about you what would you do, theoretically?"

"Is Cardin giving you trouble again?" A vehement denial was all it took for her to maybe not rush off and find Cardin. "Well I suppose I would ask them why they were doing it." It seemed as though this whole secret training thing had gotten to him more than he'd thought. Secret glances conveying paragraphs of emotion weren't quite as helpful as just asking Yang up front.

How would she react? What if she'd been deceiving him? What if she deceived him with her answer? How was he to understand what the best course of action is?

"I know that look, you're overthinking it. You're our team leader, trust your decisions; we all do." Regardless of how he felt on his decisions as a team leader Pyrrha was right about one thing, he'd been overthinking it. It was time to find Yang.

* * *

Having grown up a veritable hick it'd always been a challenge to follow even simple directions in the sprawling cityscape of the City of Vale, so it came as no surprise when he realised he was lost. Obligatory self-loathing aside he'd expected to get lost considering Yang had neglected to mention so much as what her errand was, let alone the location of it. He'd find her eventually, he could feel it in his bones; something was going to happen today and he'd bet his forged transcripts on it involving Yang's errand.

The hours had really worn on Jaune, besides stopping for food at some point he'd been walking all day without a glimpse of a single member of RWBY. He'd have probably given up some time ago if he hadn't the strangest conviction that Yang was still in the area, he was perhaps twenty paces from giving up as it was.

Out from a nearby store an angel descended still softly dusted in snowflakes, he'd have wept if not for the determination that steeled him.

"Snow Ange—" a palm thrust stopped him from enveloping his saviour in a hug.

"Stop right there. Simply because you've managed to catch me outside of the academy does not mean you're permitted to ask me on a date, nor are you permitted to touch me." Her disdain almost palpable he stumbled back a step before he righted himself, his cause remembered.

"But—" he stammered impotently.

"And that insufferable nickname you seem so determined to call me is completely intolerable. I'm a refined young woman and I do not need to be debased by creatures such as yourself and whatever kin may have spawned you." Had he been capable of fully comprehending the insults she doled out Weiss may have had a fight on her hands, as it was though he stood rather dimly trying to insert his words into her tirade.

"I just—" She gave no quarter to any excuse he may have been brewing.

"I mean really, the thought that someone such as I would ever—" The tables turned and for once Weiss was the one that found herself at a loss.

"I just wanted to ask if you'd seen Yang." He felt extremely vindicated as Weiss fell silent in the wake of his exclamation, it didn't last.

"So now you're asking Yang out?" His mind snapped back to earlier time Yang had intruded on his thinking and his face bloomed scarlet. He still had no clue what to make of Yang's ministrations, she could be so flirtatious in her playful manner that it was hard to gauge just how she perceived him. Matters weren't helped by his vigorously youthful physiology. Any time he had to deny the claim having been preoccupied with his thoughts was lost to his speech.

"You are going to ask Yang out!" Her words hit him with the ice cold realisation that he was still talking to Yang's teammate and friend. A friend that thought he was going to ask Yang out.

"No, no, no. I just have some, err, business with her. Yeah, business." Her incredulous gaze left him sweating bullets and in a fit of inspired intelligence he realised it was a lost cause. Sticking around was just digging a deeper hole. "Anyway, if you could just tell her I need to talk to her that'd be great. Thanks."

From behind a shelf of books—and a rack of comics—she watched his retreating form until it disappeared from her sight. It'd been a strange reaction to leave Weiss to deal with Jaune but by the time she realised what she was doing he'd already been running; did he know about her inquiries? As much as she'd like to think this new mystery of Jaune's appearance over there was still the mystery at hand to solve, so she dusted herself off and strode out of the door to join her teammate.

"So, what 'business' does Jaune have with you?" A question she'd also liked answered. It seemed as though she had been the goal of his quest, yet it remained to be seen what he'd really wanted to talk about.

"Don't know." She spoke with the lightness so inherent to her demeanour as if the entire exchange hadn't meant anything to her; it had quietened Weiss for now. Though she knew Weiss wouldn't let this drop.

* * *

The click of their shared door alerted Pyrrha to Jaune's return, she'd not seen him since that morning. Truth be told she'd been feeling a little lonely, their weekday sessions were starting to feel like too little time alone with him. It seemed that as though his troubles still clung to him and it broke her heart watching him like that, if only he'd turn and rely on her.

"Did you ask them?" The shell-shocked expression he wore was just too adorable, did he think that just tacking theoretically onto the end of questions would obscure her eyes? "Don't worry about it Jaune. I'm sure there'll be other opportunities." Speaking of opportunities she'd have to start making more, increasing their training schedule to weekends sounded like a good idea.

"Yeah, she's just across the hall." That drowsy, half muttered reply screeched the brakes on any plans she had to get closer to Jaune.

Who was just across the hall?

* * *

**AN: So here's this, stuff happens I guess. I feel like quality dropped off towards the end. Extended talking wears on me, even when I'm writing it; being introvert is suffering. What do I know though? I also changed the tags from Adventure/Romance to Drama/Romance because it occurred to me that when writing I don't stick to the plan and so far nothing adventurous has happened. I'll get to it eventually; if I stick to the plan.**


	3. Chapter 3

She'd been kept up all night, her only company being Nora's snoring and mad sleep rambles. No matter how she'd tried to put it from her mind it came reeling back, a proverbial dog with stick: who had Jaune been searching for? Round and round the question span in her mind, occupying everything; even the space for possible answers.

It'd been when Dawn struck that she'd finally received some respite; a masculine yawn penetrated the flimsy barrier of cloth that separated the sexes of JNPR. She'd understood the concept of mixed dorm rooms. Had been willing to accept them too but Jaune's presence had put a stop to that, she'd very nearly blushed bright red when they'd walked into the room.

Bringing her forth from her memories came Jaune through the curtain—in order to reach the door, nothing perverted of course. She wanted to call out to him, ask him the question she was dying to know; ask him the question she dreaded. Her mind grew fuzzy as her body heated, a knot in her stomach clenched and her heart brewed a storm. He was gone; to freshen up for his day no doubt.

She laid still, covers clenched tight; she couldn't ask him.

Some hours later; a far more reasonable time to be thinking on the matter, she'd decided that the best course of action would be to approach the issue from the other side: team RWBY. There could only be four girls that lived across their hall that Jaune could—would associate with.

So which of the four had been asking around about him?

Ruby: Jaune's first friend in beacon, a little young but could certainly have a crush on him.  
Threat level: Of concern

Weiss: the target of Jaune's constant advances, while she brushes them off there's no questioning his tenacity; she may cave one day.  
Threat level: High

Blake: an enigma, she'd always been distant but more so lately.  
Threat level: Not currently

Yang: a bombshell, Yang has always been full of confidence and often teases Jaune, wielding her sexuality as a cudgel to his innocence.  
Threat level: Absurdly high

Quick to fall back on her training as an up and coming hunter the question became a mission. She'd do all it would take to see this through, it would be long hours of recon but she'd do it not for herself; but for love.

"Hey Pyrrha, have you seen Jaune? I wanted to ask him if he wanted to do some homework with me; Weiss got a teensy bit angry with me the last time I asked." It seemed as if an opportunity for recon had already appeared. Love sure was a frighteningly fast worker. Ruby may not have been a high priority but she would be a valuable source of information on her entire team.

"Say, Ruby, what do you—" silence encapsulated the moment; no more words would form, not to ask about her thoughts on Jaune. The potential answers were enough to stay her tongue, what if Ruby liked Jaune? Would she become the bad guy? Would Jaune return Ruby's affection?

"Uh, Pyrrha, are you okay?" She startled from her internal dialogue to find herself staring into Ruby's all too close eyes.

"Yes, fine even. I was just wondering if you'd like to study with Jaune and me later." While the direct approach had been scrapped, some passive observation would answer her questions just the same.

"Yeah, that sounds fun. We can get cookies and have them for study snacks and we'll learn so much and it'll be delicious." She'd already been skipping away as her monologue on cookies began, leaving Pyrrha alone with her thoughts.

One down at least, if only she had a clue how to approach the rest.

With classes occupying her time no further headway had yet been made on her self-styled quest, although class hardly held her attention. Her mind swirled around the block she'd hit earlier, never once before in her life had she been completely incapable of anything. Speaking, fighting, dancing, learning, winning. The invincible girl they'd called her, fated for victory and yet throw in a boy and suddenly she's putty.

"Pyrrha?" There is was again, she'd been so lost in her monologue that she'd been incapable of even listening to someone talk to her.

"Yes Nora?" A polite smile she'd practised for years slipping its way onto her face as if to say 'I definitely heard you, would this smile lie to you?'

"Uh, you spaced out there for a minute. Jaune's up." It seemed Nora was correct; Jaune had been sidling his way down to the arena and she'd never noticed his disappearance. It didn't bode well for her quest that she could lose track of Jaune so easily.

* * *

He'd been training for this moment, he could feel everyone's eyes on him; dismissing him as always. This time though it was different, he was different. His aura bubbled under his skin, never had he felt more welcome inside his own body.

His opponent had been selected in an almost delicious fit of irony, while Thrush hadn't been Cardin he'd become the only member of CRDL that would still play the bully. His daggers in hand, he seemed to hum in anticipation.

"What are you doing now Mr. Arc?"

A nervous chuckle broke the tension settled over the arena. Crocea Mors had been impaled into the ground, sheath lain before it.

"Ah, I was thinking I'd fight this one without my sword." Glynda's eyebrow arched imperiously, questioning him as she always did. A small sigh marked her surrender.

"Very well then, you may begin."

Jaune fell into the stance Yang had drilled into him as Thrush charged.

Swipe, swipe, he retreated each time a dagger closed on him. Perhaps he'd made a mistake casting Crocea Mors aside. For the time being though Thrush had yet to scratch him, he wasn't quite Yang's speed and she only had two settings: Scary and Monstrous.

The fight, if it could be called as such, continued on in the same vein for a minute. Bob, duck, weave. Thrush was visibly coming to the end of his temper; people had started to whisper—could he really lose to Jaune?

Thrush dashed back, a soft hum pervaded the arena. He brought his daggers together before his face, faint wisps of something bleeding into the air around them. A whirring as the dust compartment settled on white. He drew in the air, the tips of his daggers as impromptu brushes; a flat circle as large as his head, it sang with the same voice the daggers had.

To Jaune's ears it sang of danger. Too late to stop it he prepared himself to take the blow, Yang had probably hit him harder at some point anyway, right? Wrong, he realised just how wrong he was as Thrush screamed.

A wave of kinetic force tore its way towards him and he prayed. One hand thrust towards it, the other steadying it, he grasped for the momentum, the danger of it. He found it. Twisting his wrist as if to lock it, he flung his arm out sharply towards empty stands behind him; the wave followed.

The song had stopped, as had much everything else. A silence fell over the arena.

"I forfeit." Jaune's call brought life back. Shouts and exclamations filled the arena, some indignant at the abilities each fighter had displayed. He paid them no mind, instead his eyes sought out the one person that had an idea of what he'd done. He nodded and received one in kind; despite his loss he left the arena with a goofy grin. The gesture dispelled any doubts he'd been having concerning her legitimacy. He'd leave Yang's inquisitiveness by the wayside; she'd been on his side all along. He trusted her.

* * *

When had he gotten so capable? Not once had he demonstrated anything on even the same level as whatever that was. He'd been getting faster, more fluid in his movement, a surety in his steps. Miraculous improvements compared to how he'd been; she'd thought he'd just hit his stride, had he in fact been going behind her back with someone else?

The clues and cues were all there, pointed to an answer she dreaded; could she compete? Maybe she'd been seeing things where there wasn't anything, she'd just talk to Jaune; just had to ask him. Just had to ask, about Yang, about Jaune and Yang; right.

"You really did it again, huh? I'm proud of you Jaune." All but confirming her suspicions Yang had approached him first.

"Yeah, it's all thanks to you really." A piece—more of a chunk—of her heart broke to the sound of those words. She wanted to run away, she wanted to jump out and yell 'What about me?' She did neither; instead she stood trembling around a corner.

They continued to talk but the words fell short of her ears, as if she'd been moved a thousand miles away in that short moment. She needed to regroup, rethink a strategy to deal with this development. It was in those lines that she found solace. The mission—her mission, nothing had changed, she'd gotten her answer but Jaune's affection was still largely fixated on Weiss and therefore unspoken for.

Dealing with boys she couldn't do. Dealing with a mission was standard fare. She strode towards the duo swollen with purpose.

"You did well Jaune, you've come a long way." She meant it and even managed to supress the undercurrent of hurt that she still felt.

"Oh, Pyrrha, hey, thanks." At least he seemed suitably embarrassed; having been caught with what may as well have been his mistress. She had to wonder if Yang knew his secret, had he shared with Yang something he'd only told her in a moment of stress and weakness?

"I have to ask though, what did you do just before you forfeited?" She could guess. Though she loathed to even think that Yang had provided him something she'd never managed to it was clear that he'd discovered himself.

"It's great; Yang helped me discover my semblance." She wanted to quiz him and quantify it but it could wait, her mission took precedence.

"Really? That's great." She managed to just keep her voice from cracking, her emotions threatening her control again; it seemed as if he'd reminded her that she'd failed him.

"Yeah, we don't really know exactly what I do yet but it's like I can feel the attacks coming and then I can change them a bit. It takes a lot out of me right now though." Despite the rather flashy demonstration his semblance appeared to be quite a subtle thing, assuming his control sharpened it would work akin in a similar way she applied her own semblance. The realisation came with a surge of happiness, she could train him to fight like her; slight corrections to the enemy and all.

"I see, perhaps we can practice it. Together." Though parsed in a way that even Jaune might pick up the hint he didn't manage to, Yang did.

"Sure, yeah. That sounds good." She hadn't noticed but Jaune seemed to be flagging, he'd not been overstating when he said his semblance took a lot from him. In light of his poor condition she decided to forgive him for being the lovably dense idiot he could be at times.

"So you've been training with Jaune?" She'd turned to Yang as Jaune battled to remain lucid enough to process the conversation. Her tone bordered on accusatory, as if Yang were the wolf to Jaune's sheep.

"Yeah, it's not a problem is it? He came and asked me and well the rest is history." How Yang of her, to be so brazenly obtuse, though it stung that he'd turned to Yang she'd trust that he had a noble sentiment at heart. She had to.

"Of course not, perhaps we could even train him together. Two heads are better than one after all." The challenge was issued and it appeared the game were afoot, so to speak. She hoped confronting the blond had been the right choice.

"Sure, he'll need all the practice he can get with his semblance and I just get so sweaty during our sessions, he has great stamina. We've even just collapsed onto each other too tired to carry on." All but seething she wanted to flee before she exploded in front of Jaune—though the polite smile never left her face.

"Friday, right? I'll arrive with Jaune." An arm hooked under Jaune's drew him close as she pulled her leader towards their dorm for well-deserved rest; away from Yang.

* * *

**AN: Right, sorry about how long it's been. I started extremely lazily and then got stuck on the fight scene- which I ended up essentially handwaving- because I couldn't write something that did RWBY justice. I realised though I had been falling into the age old trap of trying to write outside of the confines of your writing, that is to say that I can't write well enough to do the combat justice so I'm just going to have to man up and deal with whatever I can write. Better words on the paper, even poor words, than none at all? Said someone else that isn't me somewhere that isn't here. I'm kinda not happy with this chapter though, oh well though. It's a learning experience and hopefully I'll be able to point back to this someday and say "Jesus christ what the hell was I thinking when I wrote that."**


	4. Chapter 4

"Are you training him or are you beating him?" Pyrrha's voice bought him a moment of reprieve as Yang bristled; she'd been fanning the flame for the entire spar. Unable to direct her anger at Pyrrha it bled into her punches as Jaune ducked, dodged and weaved through her fury. Perhaps Pyrrha knew that his 'Danger sense' worked better when he was in real danger—which was something training with Yang brought in spades—and decided to help out. Some might call it wishful thinking; he preferred 'hopeful optimism'.

Truthfully, even Jaune could see the tension that had driven itself like a stake into the relationship of Pyrrha and Yang; they'd never been particularly close within the gang but lately the divide was palpable. If only he could think of a way to fix it, they could kiss and make up—and wasn't that a thought?—if it hadn't been for him sneaking around with Yang. Pyrrha must have been terribly upset, she had been his instructor first and he'd betrayed that.

The crux of the matter had been that Pyrrha was just too gentle with him, he responded well to real danger; as his semblance might indicate. At times he'd even wondered if Pyrrha had just been humouring him, her gentle reassurances always did so little to ease his heart. As if she'd reached for something complimentary to say and found nothing, so she doled out generalised reassurances.

Yang was never one for the idea of patiently doling out reassurances to soothe his bruised ego; instead she liked to beat his body until he had a matching pair. It was a tougher, more painful love but it made each accomplishment a mountain, each sliver of praise became water in a desert. He found he thought less of his failings when challenged by Yang, she'd never hold back and it made stomaching a resounding defeat that bit easier. Each second he bought before the inevitable was a tiny victory.

It seemed as though the inevitable had snuck up on him. Yang had backed him into a wall during his distraction, there'd be no escaping her assault; her fist lashed out, augmented by her anger. With nowhere to run he prepared to take the hit. Acknowledging the danger his sense expanded, it was an odd thing to describe. Not so much a sense in its own right but playing in concert with the five traditional senses; an intuitive understanding of the threat, conveyed through those senses.

Fire, yet not a flame; blunt force trauma. Enough power to cave his skull—without his aura, with it he'd remain mostly intact; a terrible migraine though.

He knew what he needed to do, to avoid damaging the arena—again—and to buy the reprieve he desperately needed.

His hand snapped out along the underside of her fist, with more grace than he'd ever managed in his life; a side-effect of his semblance. A sharp flick of his wrist at the key moment sent her attack skywards, his hand traced the underside of her arm as it raised to ensure it arrived; to ensure his semblance remained active. The next part was tricky, always hard to manage and even harder to remember without his semblance active; he diffused the blow.

High in the air above her head, Yang's hand exploded. A deafening bang but a flameless, lightless explosion; it toppled Yang over backwards and sent Jaune to the floor, slumped against the wall.

The explosion had been low key, no injuries beyond a bruised body and a bruised pride. To say diffused is to place too much finesse into what he did, whenever an attack lands the energy stored is transferred to whatever is hit; Jaune's ability could bypass that effect. It wasn't something he wanted to try on anything larger than a fist; Yang's fist was pushing that limit already. In the short moment where Yang's arm had hit its penultimate destination the energy had been released and subsequently trapped within his ability, however, with no means to redirect it his control faded. Even in that short moment the energy had expanded and released with an explosion.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha had called out but hadn't moved yet; not fully understanding what had happened.

She stood first, recovered from her tumble in a powerful, if not graceful, stand. Her eyes red as her heart beat faster, the explosion had worked her own semblance up. She waited for him to stand, his legs were flimsy but firm enough, she charged.

A figure of bronze and red interposed itself between them.

"Stop! Don't you see that he's hurt?" Of course she saw him hurting; she hurt too but that made it all the more important for her to continue. Pyrrha's unrelenting glare stopped her from continuing, it was incredibly tempting to leave Jaune alone and tackle Pyrrha instead; she reigned herself in.

"Tch." Red faded to lilac. She had lost this battle, too caught up in her semblance; the chance for a real fight had taken precedence as she settled into the clarity that came with her red eyes. Still coming down from the rush of her semblance she watched them leave.

* * *

A hot shower to soothe his aches has been exactly what the doctor—Pyrrha—had called for. Enjoying the warm water cascading down his body he revelled in the solitude of the communal showers; it was quite the luxury.

The soft pitter-patter of footsteps alerted him to his company. He'd have sworn it was a girl walking up on him by the footsteps; the shock of pink he caught in his peripheral cemented the fact in his mind. He screamed.

The sound cut off abruptly as an effeminate hand clamped down over his mouth. He knew not why she was here but he was certain now more than ever, he could smell a faint hint of lilac from the hand.

"Stop." It was the dull baritone of his teammate's voice that sounded from the girl. He realised it was no girl, a sigh of relief left his lips; Ren released him. It was turning around to see Ren nude that he remembered where he was, where they were, what had been pressed up against him. He screamed; Ren sighed. Eventually he recovered from the shock, uncurled from the floor and stood to resume his shower.

"We need to talk Jaune." He damned Ren and his solemn demeanour, so he'd gotten a bit freaked out that they'd grappled naked a bit. Oblivious to his thoughts Ren continued. "There's been tension lately; I need to know that you're still our team leader."

"Oh. Don't worry, I've been training harder. I'll be the best team leader there ever will be." They both knew he was avoiding the subject. He'd made more progress training under Yang in half the time he'd been training with Pyrrha but could he put that before his team? He didn't know. He answered anyway. "I know you're worried Ren but I promise I'll always put the team first."

With his piece given he left the showers, towelling off as he went. Neither of them convinced. Ren knew Jaune would try though; it was why he had grown to respect him.

* * *

Freshly washed and dressed Jaune made his way into the cafeteria. The entire group—bar Ren—were sat together, conversing; only subtle hints of the tension between Yang and Pyrrha making themselves known. In short: Girl talk. Unsure of himself but hungry from his workout he acquired food and planted himself at the edge of the group, next to Nora.

"Where's Ren, Jaune? What did you do to him?" No sooner than he'd seated himself had Nora started her interrogation.

"I didn't do anything to him. He grappled me!" Louder than he had meant but perfectly reasonable given the interrogator; Nora had garnered something of a reputation.

"Aha, so you admit to fighting with Ren." Her relentless pursuit of 'Justice' had been one of the reasons most people tended to avoid her now, that poor guy; he hadn't even known anything.

"There was no fight, Ren just surprised me in the shower is all." Not quite willing to lie—most swore she had some kind of in-built lie detector anyway—Jaune opted for the truth; leaving out his effeminate reaction.

"Whoa, hold on. You were grappling with Ren—in the shower?" When it was put like that he'd rather Nora had just broken his legs. He should've known better than to ignore Yang sitting across from him.

"Yes, no, that's not what it sounds like. I like girls." While a travesty it might've been to have Yang latch onto the conversation he'd dealt with her enough to keep his blush down—the thought of doing that with Ren of all people helped kill his blood flow with the icy breath of a cold shower.

"Oh? What kind of girls, Jauney?" His blush came in full force as Yang leant over the table, almost whispering the sentence to him; a flash of cleavage to lock the red in place.

Too occupied with Yang's form as she shifted back into her seat with a wink he missed Pyrrha's simmering. A colossal tide of rage suffused with the essence of woman scorned; a devastation to be wrought upon the land of Yang Xiao Long.

"Hey, Yang, have you decided if you're going to stay with uncle Qrow over semester break?" Ruby, the selfless—or just naïve—hero interposed herself between Pyrrha and Yang. Distraction accomplished, crisis averted, the conversation continued; a new topic afoot.

"Nope. What about you Jaune, where are you staying for the break?" She was like a dog with a bone, unrelenting in the most direct way possible.

"Ah, I'll be staying in Beacon." Better at Beacon, with the few that might remain than to be elsewhere without a soul to be found.

"Don't you want to spend some time with your family?" His world froze, most would notice his uncertainty and shy hesitance when the topic of 'Family' would arise—Ruby never had much tact though.

"Ruby, that's a little—" I was thankful for Pyrrha's concern but it was unnecessary.

"No, it's fine. My parents are outfield hunters; they don't come into society very often and when they do it takes a while for them to acclimate. Other than them I don't really have family." He'd known the day someone brought his family up would come, though he hadn't thought it would be Ruby of all people; a concession for her blissful naivety he could make.

"So that's why the Arc name fell off the invitation lists; I'd heard rumours but to believe that such a prestigious family became barbarians like that." Weiss's damning knowledge on the other hand, was something he couldn't quite brush off.

He ran. Pyrrha calling after him; Yang untangling herself from her seat: two steps behind him.

"You ok Jaune?" He couldn't have outrun her if he had tried, that didn't make him any less unenthused to talk about his problems.

"Oh, go away. You don't want to be seen associating with a barbarian do you?" A tone far more petulant than intended leaked out, with his arms crossed and sat on a curb he looked the part of an angry child.

"I'll let that one slide. Listen, Weiss doesn't know what she's talking about. My uncle was an outfielder back in the day; he's told me all kinds of stories over the years. It's hard, terrible work they do out there but someone has to do it and I remember he used light up whenever he talked about his old team. They were family to him." She didn't enjoy talking about the past, it'd never been about the good times for her; they were in the present. Instead her younger memories tended towards sorrow and grief, stupid plans and stupid prices—not all of them her uncle had managed to save her from.

"So why'd he quit?"

"My Mom left my Dad; Qrow took a teaching job to help support him. I was too young to remember it but I've always wanted to find her and ask why she left; I think Qrow knows but he's a hard man at times. I think he just wants to protect me but I'm a big girl, I can handle myself." He had to ask, didn't he? Its ok, she could handle it; for Jaune. The more she spoke, the more she went on and the more her story unfurled; small pieces—clues or cues he didn't know—told him her innermost thoughts, the person she was behind herself.

"Heh, sorry, I didn't mean to tell you my life story; I just got a bit worked up." He couldn't fault her for it, not now, not ever.

"Its fine, everyone needs to vent sometimes. If you need any help with… well, you know. I'm always available." Despite the serious tone of the conversation he'd lapsed back into his goofy grin, she found it contagious; so they sat grinning like loons telling each other of the misadventures of their youth.

* * *

With a sigh she shook herself awake again; the airship would be arriving soon. Dreary morning clouds hung low in the sky, at discord with the air of excited anticipation that hung around the students that were waiting on the ship which would take them to family some hadn't seen in months. Family like hers, which she hadn't seen in months, she wasn't as excited.

She did not come from an unhappy home or even a cold one; she had grown with a loving—if at times overbearing—mother and a father that would give anything for her to be the best. He had given her childhood; so that she could be the best and while she couldn't hate him for it, she couldn't love him for it either.

Returning home for her would be a series of training, celebrity appearances and meet and greets; the occasional family meal her Mother might prepare being the most to break the monotony. She'd wanted to ask Jaune to come with her, to meet her parents—as forward as that might seem—and to train exclusively with him. She couldn't ask him; she could already imagine the scandal that might break lose, the press hounding him for answers. He would never want to be a part of that, she didn't want to be a part of that, it would scare him off; she would lose him.

"But Yang, I told uncle Qrow you were coming, you can't just change your mind!" The cry of the fabled fifteen year old of Beacon cut through the idle chatter of the crowd gathered.

"Sorry sis, change of plans. We're not kingdoms apart, just an hour." The rest of their conversation became muddled with countless others as everyone resumed their chatter. She'd gotten enough though, Jaune was staying; Yang was staying. She'd been one-upped.

The whistle signalling the airship's arrival cut off any plans for retribution she had. She was trapped, proverbial rock and hard place; the familiar routine of managing her fame, training and family dynamic to the chaotic war for Jaune's affections—without alerting Jaune. She wanted to step away from the airship, to run over and tell him that she'd stay with him at Beacon.

What would he say? What could he say? There would be no dazzling confession, he would not sweep her into his arms and tell her that everything would be okay. In the end she was too afraid of what might, or might not be.

She stepped onto the airship.

* * *

**AN: Right, sorry it's been so long. It's hard to pick up when you put it down for so long; this had been sat for almost a week with just a little extra needing done. That said some of you probably noticed some weird terminology in there, it'll get fully explained eventually. I'd also like to take this time-having just watched World Of Remnant 2- to state this is going to end up horribly AU. I mean, the later story by and large requires an entirely different world setup with far more vicious grim and a humanity that has been and still is more desperate to survive; hence outfielders. I'll flick some knobs and turn some switches to try and adapt as much as possible to whatever information is released at whatever later date but here's your chance to jump ship.  
****Please don't jump ship, I need all of my readers.**


	5. Chapter 5

"You're getting better fast, you almost had me there." They both knew that was an embellishment, at best Yang would have gotten back up and just pummelled him into the ground even harder. At least they had moved onto sparring with weapons recently, even if Jaune often felt hampered by the ungainliness of his shield at times, it was a step forwards; proof that he'd made the right choice. Despite the distance he'd created with his team in the process. He'd make it up to them.

"Don't beat yourself up so much, you have improved. Anyway, you should go get a shower; you stink. Don't forget, eleven o'clock." One of her characteristic knocks to the shoulder accompanied the admonishment; she could read him too well at times.

"Shouldn't you shower as well?" Despite the time he'd spent around girls over the course of his stay at Beacon he never managed to not ask the stupid questions.

"Are you saying I stink?" Her face contorted into an eerie smiling visage that filled him with dread, knuckles cracked with the palm of her other hand and she advances on him.

"No, not at all, of course not." His training with Yang had tempered him but there were times where he feared he was doomed to ask the stupid questions or say the stupid lines. This was one of those times.

"Oh, if you wanted to shower together you just had to ask." She continued advancing but her smile turned genuine and her steps filled with a seductive sway. Her finger traced the underside of his jaw as she strut past, turning his head softly as she went, never stopping her steps until she reached the door. With a quick wink she was gone, leaving him frozen in place, face painted cherry red.

Maybe asking a stupid question wasn't always a bad thing, he'd still need that shower though; a cold one.

* * *

It was ten when he arrived at the airship docks, Yang wouldn't be arriving for a while yet, the airship not for another hour. He couldn't have put it off any longer; he had spent an hour digging through his meagre supply of clothing before settling on the classiest thing he owned. He ended up dressed in his combat attire, minus the armour, in a few words—not classy at all.

Almost an hour later—all of which he spent waiting in the early morning chill—Yang arrived, ready to go, also dressed in her combat attire. The idea struck him as odd, girls liked to dress up on dates, right? But this wasn't a date-date, there's no way this could be a date-date, since she was Yang and he was Jaune. So he supposed it made sense for her to wear standard attire, it was only a date—like the 26th of November, certainly not like a movie, dinner and a hotel room.

"Not wearing your armour? It's alright, I suppose, it wouldn't do much anyway." Her words did little to instill confidence in him; it definitely wasn't going to be a date-date. He wanted to ask but he didn't really want to know, it was a common enough theme when dealing with Yang so he brushed himself off and went with the flow—the flow which had Yang hauling him bodily towards the just then arriving airship. Sometimes he even questioned himself.

A half hour trip took them into the city, another five minute trip had them staring down something Jaune could only contemplate with horror—Yang's bike. He liked to think he'd come a long way from the boy that had been pants wettingly terrified of—well he'd rather not go there. Suffice to say he was a better man now, there was no doubt in his mind that Yang was simply certifiably insane, anyone would be terrified of having her drive them on something like _that._

She still managed to coax him onto the bike, the prospect of holding her body tightly that she'd brought up had in no way swayed his decision. She revved the engine, he screamed, they were off. His screaming lasted for all of one minute when they hit the open road; his semblance's passive nature activated and he was peripherally aware of every vehicle with the potential to hit them at their current speed.

It still wasn't a calm trip. Constantly on the lookout for potential crashes in the making, ready to redirect them, even if doing so would be costly. He was fortunate that his innate danger sense wasn't something that drained his reserves, he was still pleased when the last vehicle posing any danger slipped from his awareness and they broke onto the more country roads leading out of the City of Vale.

With his awareness bereft of focus he remembered where he was and what he was doing. He could feel the roar of the engine between his legs and watched the world whip by from Yang's back—having pressed himself against her for fear of falling.

He didn't get queasy or nauseous, there was no vomit rushing upwards towards the free world; just the fear of falling to a horrific death remained. Even that fear was tempered by the secure grip he had around Yang's waist, his fingers occasionally brushing the bare skin of her stomach; he fought a shudder each time. It was a miracle Yang paid it no mind and thus hadn't crashed when an errant pink stroked her bare skin.

He was awfully tempted to make a grab of something, his arms lay encircled between two fleshy threats; her exposed stomach and her rather bountiful bosom. Fear of crashing, fear of her, fear of rejection held his hands firmly within safe and sensible boundaries. Not a coward but a gentleman he'd remind himself—this was after all, not a date-date. He could live with such thoughts but in doing so he had forced himself to come to terms with his feelings; he wanted her.

Consumed such as he was by his thoughts he jerked as the bike came to a stop, almost falling and forcing a laugh from his companion in the process. She dismounted with a hop and a stretch as the bike's engine died.

"Mmm, nothing like a good ride through the city to kick-start a day. C'mon we have to walk a bit from here."

* * *

**AN: So some of you may be wondering where I've been. My brother just got married so that's what I've been doing but I realised something during it all: I'm not really getting what I want out of writing right now. More to the point I'm not getting what I want out of writing fanfiction right now, maybe that'll change in the future but right now I've been trying to reconcile the desire to write something more meaningful to both myself and any potential readers with the desire to continue writing for my approaching 100 followers (spread over story follows and author follows I think the numbers almost 100). In short, which at this point I've gone far past, I'm going to stop writing fanfiction for an indeterminate amount of time; I may possibly stop writing it forever. Condolences to anyone waiting with each breath for my return, of which I hope there's at least a few-though I know how fickle a number like 100 can be. Most of all I'm sorry to leave a piece unfinished.**

**Sayonara.**


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